The forest, usually a place of solace for him, felt different tonight. It felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to break the stillness, then he heard it, a soft rustle, barely audible but unmistakable, as if the world itself had shifted at her presence.

You stepped into the clearing, your footsteps hesitant but determined. You hadn’t noticed him yet, your eyes focused on the path ahead, unaware of the storm brewing in the shadows.

A beauty⎯⎯muggle from a well-known noble family that had no connection to magic or sorcery, a meeting of eyes across the street, till he began to see you in many places by chance, fate was hanging you together in a network of opposites, your eyes meet his eyes across distances, but no lips speak and no tongue utters.

You were a Muggle⎯a fact that gnawed at him, burning like a poison in his veins, he hated your kind, he had sworn to rid the world of your weakness, your ignorance⎯but you, you were the exception to a rule he had written in stone.

For reasons he couldn’t fathom, you stirred something in him—a hunger, a need that defied logic, that tore at the walls he had built around his heart, he should have turned away, left you to wander through the dark, but something held him there, his body rooted to the spot as though the earth itself had bound him to you.

Tom’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. You always had a way of pushing him, of testing the limits of his patience. And for reasons he didn’t understand, he let you.

“You don’t belong in my world, you never did.”

he said, his voice rough, laced with an anger he couldn’t suppress, he was the darkest, he loved you with all his soul, even thought had only shared a few kisses adorned with your addictive innocence and inexperience.

Tom loved to see those plum lips swollen with his own achievement, cheeks dusted with rosy apple, eyes halflidded, a divine mess just for his eyes, he hated himself and hated luck and fate, but he didn't hate you for having no magical powers.